


there's a room where the light won't find you

by orphan_account



Series: it's my own remorse [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Sometimes I write and this is what happens, TW: suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3311039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things must begin where other things end and so the darkness begins to surround Carmilla and Laura.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a room where the light won't find you

**Author's Note:**

> The basis of this lies in a headcanon I once assisted my girlfriend with. All credit for it goes to her since she expanded on it beautifully. I plan to do horrible things to Laura, though, while reading the ones to follow this, it may seem like hyperbole.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall…” she sings, never looking away from her reflection. “Who’s the fairest of them all?”

Her eyes are dark at the edges, the light disappearing into the black the longer she stares in the mirror. She can feel it inside of her, the Blade’s corruption seeping through her veins with every moment that goes by.

It creeps and it creeps and it creeps, drains her life even as she struggles to stay above it, to stay alive when death calls. She is not sure how long this can go on, how much longer she can hold out but she wants to, needs to. She needs to stay if only because she will not lose her heart again.

A hand on her back, sliding over her shoulder, across her chest. She leans back, allows Laura to wrap her arms around her as she breathes in the comforting scent of cinnamon and something sharper, a bitter, familiar aroma that has been growing stronger each day.

“You’re exhausted.”

She does not dispute this, does not challenge the soft authority of that statement. She lets herself be led away, back to the bed she had left so long before.

Laura pushes her down, straddles her waist as she cups her face, kisses her with an aching desperation they can never rid themselves of. She is all longing and want and desire as she moves, holds the other girl closer, her nails leaving red trails down her back.

The need to drink is harsh, cruel as she flips their positions, presses her lips against Laura’s neck. She does not bite down, does not do anything that would draw blood despite the want making its way through her.

“Sweet girl,” Laura whispers, fingers combing through her hair.

She freezes, waits. Over and over again, this has been happening. Familiarity washes over her, dread, desire, revulsion but never for her, not for Laura.

The grip tightens and she relaxes, lets herself fall closer to the girl. She lets her guards down, allows Laura to bring her into herself as she guides her down and down and down until she does not know where or what she is anymore.

“Mine,” she whispers, fingers raking through dirty blonde hair, tears slipping down her skin, “yours.”

* * *

Laura traces a finger down the scars on her back, kisses them as she touches her. She feels and feels and feels until it is too much, until she cannot find her way out of this rabbit hole she finds herself falling into.

She wants and wants and wants but she does not know what she wants, what she needs. All she knows is that Laura is it, is the only reason she can stand, can live.

She has felt like this before, knows what it means, but she cannot fight it, cannot resist it when giving in means so much more. She needs to sink, to let herself fall and fall and fall until she hits the end of this hole she finds herself in.

There are things she remembers during these moments, feelings and actions and words that ghost across her skin with every touch she feels. She knows that this cannot last, that something will inevitably cause her eventual fall but she cannot stop.

“Laura,” she whispers, “Laura, Laura, Laura, please…”

She groans as she curls into the girl, lets her tears fall as she pushes herself into her. She needs her, loves her. She wants to give this girl her forever if only so that she can stay with her always but she knows that she cannot ask that of her, cannot ask her to sacrifice all that she will be just for her.

Her body hurts. Her mind reels. She feels so confused but she cannot find her way out of it. There is so much and so little going on, so much she wants and so much she wants to run from.

She begs, pleads, cries as Laura strokes through her hair, holds her close. Neither of them knows what they are doing but she knows that it cannot continue, that something needs to change.

She is afraid.

* * *

“I want to know,” Laura asks once, eyes bright, too bright.

“Know what, cupcake?”

“Everything.”

* * *

Sometimes parts of her want to give up, to go back to the Lustig and jump, fall, die. She wants it always but she hesitates, holds herself back whenever she looks at the girl next to her.

“The stars have existed for millennia uncounted,” she says, voice shaking as she brushes a strand of Laura’s hair behind her ear. “They have looked down upon us for such a long time and yet they cannot know how long I have waited to love you.”

* * *

There are days when she does not want to go to class, days when she would rather stay in bed, when she would rather hide away from the world at large. There are days when she would rather be in the depths of the abyss that her mother worshipped than in the light held so dear by those around her.

As she sits next to Danny, as she drinks deeply, recklessly with vodka bottles surrounding her, empty, hollow, she knows that this is one of those days. They are scarred, all of them, but no one knows how deeply her wounds run, how damaged she can truly be if she allows herself to be seen.

“You know, the Puppy’s missing. What’d you do to get him to stop following you around?”

Danny snorts and she offers the girl her bottle, watching as she grimaces after drinking. She accepts it back wordlessly.

“He doesn’t follow me around.”

“Yes, he does. Don’t know what’s going on up there in the exosphere with you but down here everyone can see the way he looks at you.”

“Yeah. Like you’d know anything about that, Leech.”

She leans back, stares at the stars as they sparkle weakly behind the clouds that have been rolling in for days now. She frowns. They do not present a danger yet but there is magic in the air.

“I know more about the Puppy than you do. Sometimes I wonder if that brain of yours even works.”

Danny says nothing. She does not have to. Their hate for each other is mutual, something so embedded in who they are that they cannot overcome it on the best of days, but she knows that the ginger giant next to her understands what she does not say.

She understands well what Danny does not utter, understands the retort gone unsaid as they sit there on the tallest of the library’s towers. It is something she asks herself, something that plagues her mind, waking and dreaming.

No matter how much she tries, she cannot escape it. Sometimes she wonders if it is even worth the effort of trying and failing to get away, but she knows that she cannot live like this, never like this.

* * *

Two days after their nocturnal adventure, she finds herself on the receiving end of the Summer Society President’s ire. Amelia Grayson is small, tiny like Laura, but she is fierce, determined. She has always liked that about the girl, liked that she will not take anything from anyone without giving back as good as she gets, but Laura’s amusement at her shame is something she cannot bear for long.

She keeps her head down, reaches out to touch her as she walks away from Amelia. She needs this, needs to be anchored lest she run the risk of floating away, of disappearing into the storm within her.

“Danny is an idiot,” she says but she does not care about the Amazon just then. All she cares is that Laura is there, is alive and warm and whole as she had hoped.

“She is.”

Laura does not say it, does not say the words she knows the other girl is holding back. She entwines their fingers, pulls her closer and she allows it, lets Laura guide them back to the dorm.

* * *

There is something about the way she gazes at her that makes her wet, makes her wild with want. She cannot pinpoint it, cannot find a reason as to why that should be so but she knows it to be true, to be the only truth left in her life.

It happens at the most innocuous of times. Laura meets her after class for an absurdly large hot chocolate and her eyes penetrate her over the cup’s rim. She shudders when Laura looks at her from her desk, eyes half-lidded as she stands, makes her way to the bed.

She thinks that this cannot last, that eventually Laura will want something else, someone else. She thinks that she will never be good enough for her, not after all that she has done, all that she has lowered herself to in order to please a woman who would not release her, would not let her go no matter how much she was suffocating beneath her.

* * *

Sometimes she would remember things, would remember Mother’s face, her hands, her touch. She would remember the way Mother loved her, selfishly, possessively.

It hurts to think that there was an end to that, that she is the reason Mother was gone, that she will no longer look up during her hunts and see her watching, waiting. She always did that, always kept her safe, whole, except for when she did not.

* * *

Laura looks at her like she saved her, but she looks at Laura and sees the universe in the way she moves, hears infinity in her voice when she whispers to her at night.

“I love you,” she says, her fingers combing through her hair. “I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before.”

“Not even the giant?”

She jests but she needs to know, needs to hear it. She feels broken, torn, but she cannot put herself back together, not on her own.

Laura seems to sense this, to just know. A hand reaches up, touches her cheek.

“More than my own life,” she whispers, kisses her. “I love you enough to want to die.”

It should not be sweet, should not make her shudder with warmth, with adoration for this tiny, precious girl, but it does. Laura knows what her words mean, what they promise. How could she not?

She wants this, wants what Laura promises, but she does not know how, does not know if she can do what those words ask of her. She does not remember, does not think of it on most days but now, now she cannot let herself remember, cannot allow herself to dare to hope.

“There is nothing in this world,” she says instead, “nothing as precious to me as your life. I would die a thousand times over if it means that you would live to see another sunrise.”

Laura’s eyes darken, her fingers become gentler as they hold her. She knows that grip, feels it before she sees what is to come.

Part of her wants to be surprised, wants to think that she could not have known that this was coming. She wants to believe that she was blind, that the signs were not there. She wants to think that nothing could have prepared her for this, could have led her to this conclusion, but she cannot.

It is too familiar, her reaction too visceral to be denied as she finds herself wanting to get closer, wanting to break free and escape. She does not move, cannot move, not now.

“My darling, glittering girl.”

The voice is Laura’s but she feels cold and hot, every sensation overwhelming her as she struggles not to give in, not to let herself get taken by it again and again and again. She begs and pleads silently but she cannot get the words out, cannot speak for fear that she will give in, allow this to happen.

“I love you, my darling. You cannot know the depths of this aching I feel for you.”

She cannot know but she does and that is what scares Carmilla most.

Sometimes parts of her want to give up, to go back to the Lustig and jump, fall, die. She wants it always but she hesitates, holds herself back whenever she looks at the girl next to her.

“The stars have existed for millennia uncounted,” she says, voice shaking as she brushes a strand of Laura’s hair behind her ear. “They have looked down upon us for such a long time and yet they cannot know how long I have waited to love you.”


End file.
